Harry's Sick Marauders Experience
by Healer Pomfrey
Summary: Harry wants to spend the holidays with his godfather but feels ill and needs to be rescued to Hogwarts by Minerva. Completely AU, irresponsible Sirius only slightly OOC in my opinion , sick!Harry.


**Harry's Sick Marauders Experience**

It was the first day of the winter holidays, and Harry had just arrived at Grimmauld Place in order to spend the holidays together with his godfather Sirius and his former professor Remus.

"Hello cub," Remus greeted him, gently patting his shoulder.

"Hello Professor."

"Ah, I'm not your professor anymore; just call me Remus, cub," Remus told the boy, who gave him a small smile in return.

"Hello Harry," Sirius laughed, pulling the boy in a bear hug. "It's good to have you here, Prongslet."

"I'm glad to be here, too," Harry replied quietly. In fact, he was glad to be with his godfather, but he wasn't feeling too well. That morning, he and his dorm mates had done a race, while they were making their trunks float down the grand staircase to the Great Hall, and somehow, Neville's trunk had hit Harry in the head full force, causing him to have a splitting headache.

"Are you hungry, Prongslet, or shall we go? We wanted to take you to a Muggle cinema tonight. They have a funny film on," Sirius told him excitedly.

Harry groaned inwardly. Apart from his headache, his stomach was churning, and he wanted nothing more than to go to bed. "No, I'm not hungry," he finally said.

"Well, then I'm going to get ready. Give me five minutes," Remus spoke up and left the room.

"Sirius, do we have to go to the cinema? I have quite a headache tonight," Harry asked hesitantly.

"Yes, we have to go tonight, because the film is only on tonight," Sirius replied brightly. "We can buy a headache potion at Diagon Alley."

"All right, thanks," Harry mumbled, trying to hide his disappointment at his godfather's reaction. '_Maybe I should have stayed at Hogwarts_,' he thought, longing for his bed in his dormitory.

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Harry sat quietly at Sirius' left side, while they were watching an action film that Harry didn't find interesting at all. He felt as if his head was going to explode, he felt hot and cold at the same time, and he had already excused himself three times to run to the toilet and empty the content of his stomach.

When they were finally back at Grimmauld place, Remus excused himself. "Harry, I'll be away for two days, since it's the full moon tomorrow."

"All right," Harry replied, feeling a bit sad at the thought of spending the time alone with his godfather, who currently seemed a bit too fit for his liking. He also was a bit angry at Sirius, since he had promised to buy a headache potion for Harry and obviously forgot about the matter as soon as the words had left his mouth. Not wanting to complain again, Harry quickly excused himself for the night.

"Ah but I thought we could have a glass of wine together, Harry, especially since Moony won't be here tomorrow."

"Now Padfoot, let the boy go to bed," Remus threw in. "Look at him; he can hardly keep his eyes open!"

"He has no talent to be a Marauder," Harry heard Sirius speak to Remus, while he was slowly climbing up the stairs.

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In the morning, Harry felt even worse. However, from the previous day's experiences, he knew that he wouldn't have a chance to just stay in bed. '_Instead, I have to spend the day with my godfather, who behaves like a school boy and not like an adult_,' he groaned inwardly, while he slowly scrambled out of bed. Only seconds later, he heard a loud knock at his door, and his godfather asked impatiently, "Get up, Harry, and lets have some fun, or do you want to sleep through the day?"

"I'm coming," Harry replied and opened the door.

"Get ready, Harry, and have breakfast. I want to go to the apothecary at Diagon Alley," Sirius told him, and Harry already gave his godfather a hopeful glance, when he continued mischievously, "I want to buy a joke potion, which we can put in people's glasses, when they come for the Order meeting tomorrow night."

Harry followed his godfather around wearily, feeling worse by the hour. Glad when they were back at Grimmauld place, he told Sirius, "I'm sorry, but I don't want dinner. I don't feel so good, and I want to go to bed early tonight."

"Are you sure?" Sirius asked, only to add, "Your father would be disappointed, Prongslet. We spent many days drinking through the nights, especially during the holidays. Well, try to rest; tomorrow morning we have to take Buckbeak for a flight before it'll become light. I will wake you up early."

"All right," Harry replied, sighing inwardly, and headed up into his room, where he noticed that Hedwig was waiting for him. Never before had he been so glad to see his familiar. "Thanks God, Hedwig. Can you take a letter to Hogwarts for me?"

Hedwig flapped her wings and landed on Harry's shoulder, gently giving him a peck on the cheek. Harry quickly sat down at the desk taking parchment and a quill out of his school bag, before he scribbled a note, noticing that the lines were too blurry to write properly.

"_Dear Professor McGonagall, could you please rescue me from here when you come to the Order meeting tomorrow night? I'd prefer to return to Hogwarts as soon as possible, but I don't want to anger Sirius. Please excuse my bad writing; somehow, the lines are too blurry_."

Hedwig held out a foot, and Harry fastened the letter. "Please take it to Professor McGonagall, beautiful," Harry instructed his familiar and went straight to bed.

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A few hours later, Harry woke up to loud voices in front of his door. "I am sorry, Mr. Black, but I have orders from Professor Dumbledore to take Mr. Potter back to Hogwarts immediately."

Harry wearily recognized his Head of House's voice and sighed in relief. "You can't just come and take my godson away. At least, I want to know a reason!" Sirius shouted.

"That's neither your, nor my business, Mr. Black," McGonagall replied sternly.

Harry lazily threw his covers away, shivering vehemently, and tried to get up, feeling so dizzy that he fell back onto his pillows. Quickly pulling his covers up again, he helplessly remained in his bed, waiting for the two adults to finish their quarrel in front of his door.

Finally, his door was flung open and Harry saw two blurry figures enter the room. An instant later, he heard McGonagall's voice. "Mr. Potter, Professor Dumbledore wants you to return to Hogwarts immediately. Can you get up and accompany me please?"

Before Harry's fevered mind could even prepare an answer, the teacher sat down on the edge of his bed, taking in that his cheeks were feverishly flushed and that his hair was sweaty and strangely sticking to his face. "Harry, are you ill?" she asked softly.

"Yes," Harry mumbled miserably, flinching back startled when he felt an icy hand on his forehead.

Minerva turned to Sirius. "Did you even notice that your godson is very ill?"

Sirius shook his head. "No, he was only tired and went to bed early," he gave back before he left the room in a huff.

The professor pulled a tissue out of her robe pockets and quickly transfigured it into a thermometer. "Harry, please let me take your temperature. We must try to assess what's wrong with you in order to know how I can take you back to Hogwarts."

While they were waiting for the reading, she conjured a cool cloth and carefully bathed the boy's hot forehead and cheeks, receiving a grateful smile from Harry, who stopped her hand from moving away when she touched his cheek, gladly leaning into the cool touch.

"It was good that you contacted me, Harry, you are very ill," the teacher said softly, looking horrified at the display of the thermometer. "Unfortunately, I'm not capable of any healing spells and can't help you, but I will take you to Madam Pomfrey with my emergency Portkey. I dare not take you through the Floo network, since you have nearly forty degrees of fever. Just lean into my hand," she ordered the boy and activated the Portkey hidden in the ring she was wearing.

An instant later, Harry found himself on the floor of the hospital wing, throwing up violently, before he passed out.

When his mind slowly turned conscious again, he found himself in a crispy white bed and noticed immediately that he felt much better. He lazily opened his eyes and saw his Head of House sitting on the edge of his bed, reading a book. "Hello Professor," Harry mumbled tiredly.

"Harry, thank God you're awake. You gave us a huge fright, young man," the teacher said softly. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Yes, much better," Harry replied gratefully.

"Nevertheless, you may not move your head. You have a bad concussion, which became extremely bad because it apparently remained untreated for a few days. Didn't you tell your godfather that you felt sick?"

"I told him I had a bad headache on the first night, and he promised to go and buy a headache potion, but he forgot. He only said my father would be disappointed in me because I'm no fun."

Minerva shook her head in annoyance. "It was good that you contacted me; that was a very wise decision."

"What I cannot understand," Harry began confused, "is why you came immediately during the night. I thought you'd come to the Order meeting the next evening."

"You wrote something about blurry lines, Harry, and your handwriting was extremely strange, so that I thought you had to be sick," the teacher explained patiently, carefully bathing his hot cheeks with a cool cloth.

Harry gave his Head of House a thankful smile. "I will never leave Hogwarts any more if I don't have to. Thanks for taking me back home, Professor."

**The End**

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I'm not a native speaker of English. Please excuse my mistakes or help me to correct them._

_All recognizable characters belong to J., and I am not earning anything by writing this story._


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